The Sprint's gauges are taking some time to get used to.

The analog gas level gauge shows "full" for a long time. When the gauge reads three-quarters full, in the next twenty miles, the gauge will drop like a stone to one-quarter full. At first I wondered if I had a leak. Todd the wrench at the dealer, explained that the shape of the tank is responsible for the behavior of the gauge. The tank shape is essentially shaped like a wide-mouth funnel, lots of gas at the top, not very much in the mid-column, and even less near the bottom.

Then there's the speedometer. I used to cruise home from Berkeley at about 80 mph, or just below when I sensed a highway patrol car was lurking. That was on the BMW CS. Now I'm riding the Sprint. Just keeping up with traffic my speedo says I'm doing 90 mph. In the course of a couple weeks, highway traffic is blithely cruising at speeds that should be attracting highway patrol cars. The wrench said that 7% "optimism" is common. When I checked this out on the Triumphrat.net speedo forum, I learned that Sprint speedo optimism is a commonly observed phenomena, and no one actually believes they've gotten faster.

So you might think that the speedo is off by 7% across the board, but that's not true. I don't have hard data, but the LED speed monitors near the school - the 25 mph zone - tell me that the lower my speed, the more accurate the reading. As my speed increases, the delta between accuracy and optimism increases. Theoretically, my speedo should read 86 mph if I'm actually going 80 mph. But that is not the case, it says 90 mph. Patrick, the service manager at the dealer says that I need to learn judge my speed by gear and rpm.

I imagine the following encounter with a highway patrol person.

"Madam hooligan, do you know how fast you were going?"

"No, sir, I don't know for sure. I was in 6th gear at 4000 rpm, so I would estimate that I was going about 75 mph."

"What did your speedometer say?"

"Sir, I've been told by the dealer that my speedometer is inaccurate, so I don't pay much attention to it. I watch my rpms and go with the flow of traffic to be safe."

Think that will fly? Neither do I.

I need to be careful when I joke about possible conversations with the highway patrol. I was on my normal Saturday ride to Berkeley, tucked in nice and tight, going a little faster than legal just enjoying the ride. I felt this heavy vibe on my port side - a black and white shark had pulled up next to me. The CHP didn't say anything, he didn't have to, the look in his eyes registered in my brain loud and clear, "You, there, slow the &$%# down." Shit. The flashers were going on his car. I clicked the right turn signal, prepared to exit the freeway and receive my first motorcycle speeding ticket.

Imagine my surprise and immense relief when the CHP pulled up next to the car in front of me, and I don't hear over the loudspeaker, "... and you too, Madam hooligan, this is a two-fer bust." The car in front of me changed lanes and headed steadily for the nearest exit. I had decreased my speed, and was waiting for the slightest indication that I was to come along, but the CHP's attention was entirely on the car. I meekly thanked the gods and promised to keep a better look out. I need a track day.

The Bandana, by Dale Borgeson. Short, sweet, I laughed so hard I cried. Cecilie-bob says check it out.